


Pushing Boundaries

by mindy_makru_tutu



Category: 30 Rock
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-31
Updated: 2010-08-31
Packaged: 2019-08-27 10:22:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16700671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mindy_makru_tutu/pseuds/mindy_makru_tutu
Summary: “Ever been tied up during sex, Lemon?”





	Pushing Boundaries

Liz kept pushing him away. Unintentionally. At least, he assumed the action was unintentional on her part. He assumed she didn’t mean to do it, that it was simply a self-conscious symptom of the intimacy issues he was aware he’d have to tackle when he became romantically involved with her. He’d not yet breached the last of the invisible walls she’d erected about herself, defending the inner most sanctum of her heart. But he didn’t wish to push. Jack wanted that to happen in its own time. In her time. He could wait for it, for her. He’d already waited this long.

The first time Liz pushed him away was the first time he kissed her. That was partly his fault though. He came on too strong, too suddenly. And possibly it was not the best idea to woo her at work, to confess his desire for her in her office on a messy, stressy Monday morning. Because Liz, being her dense self and trapped in work mode did not get the message, she kept randomly changing the subject on him. Until Jack became so frustrated that he decided the only way to get through to her, to communicate what he really wanted, was to show her. A split-second later, he did. By grabbing her and kissing her. Unfortunately, Pete walked in at the exact same moment and Liz was so freaked out by being caught in a liplock with him – and the liplock itself, he supposed – that she shoved him away, hard, both hands on his chest. Jack landed on his butt on the sofa, slightly stunned. Liz made it up to him though. After Pete mumbled a dazed excuse and exited, she began apologizing profusely as she clambered onto his lap then proceeded to kiss him breathless. Jack forgave her immediately. And from that day onwards, she was his. His to touch, his to hold, his to love.

As their romantic relationship grew, Liz did become far more accustomed to his touch, less resistant to him expressing his affection physically. Though she never allowed him to kiss her on the elevator at work or put a hand on her waist or elbow while they were in the writer’s room. And after that first time, they never made out in her office again. Or in his, which he rather regretted. That had been a long-time fantasy of his. But whenever he attempted to turn this fantasy into reality, Liz just made a face and pushed him away. She said she was too weirded out by the idea of him later picturing her in the buff, splayed out on his sofa or desk, beckoning him to do her. Jack pointed out he would probably do this anyway, with or without the actual experience. Which oddly failed to convince her. She told him she’d rather not fuel his already active imagination. She’d rather leave their sex where it belonged.

It was the same when he tried to nuzzle her neck as they walked across the Plaza together or french kiss her at the cinema during the candy bar commercials. She disliked public displays of affection in general. She did not like them in restaurants or cabs or in the hotdog queue or at industry events, and especially not at the weekly after-party. The only time they were physically unrestrained with each other was when they were alone in one of their apartments. Then Liz came to life. At first, it was slowly, uncertainly. She became a pair of wandering hands and an open, accepting mouth. She became a woman with legs that’d goosebump when he ran a hand up them and breasts that responded to his suckling, teasing mouth. She became the sexual being he always suspected existed underneath all her squeamishness and awkwardness and juvenile deflection. Only now, he had the proof. Liz became his lover. And she accepted him as hers. Except when it came to one particular act.

She didn’t let him perform it at first. It was many months into their relationship when he finally managed to persuade her. To Jack, it was an essential part of love-making. He loved it, relished it, fed off his lover’s reactions. He’d never known a woman who didn’t enjoy it, didn’t want it, who refused to be pleasured in that way. He was positive, if she’d only trust him, that he could change her mind on the subject. Eventually, Liz agreed to let him try. She got very drunk that first time. So drunk that she babbled throughout the whole experience, babbled about all the things he was doing to her and how weird but amazing it felt. So drunk that her hands just lay flat and limp beside her spread thighs as his head bobbed determinedly between them. So drunk that when she came, she shouted and cursed, she arched and writhed, she let him go on and on and on until he’d wrung every last drop of ecstasy from the most intense orgasm she’d ever had in her entire life. Or so she later told him. Jack pleasured her orally three times that night. And Liz shouted and came each time, eyes clamped shut as she panted in awe and approval. The next morning, when she was no longer drunk, she smiled fuzzily at him and let him disappear below the warm covers to eat her once more before he eased inside her loose, buzzing body.

Since then, Liz never said no to oral sex. Once or twice she even demanded it. The demand carefully hidden within a quip. But even then, while her mouth said yes -- and repeated the word, over and over – her hands still occasionally said no. They would rest on his shoulders and lightly push him back, her resistance becoming more palpable as her orgasm approached. Once, afterwards, Jack gently called her attention to it. Liz said she didn’t realize she was doing it. He’d asked her if there was anything he was doing she didn’t like. She flushed red, muttered a hasty no before promising not to do it again. Sometimes, Liz would request he go down on her – and by request, he meant she would guide his head, lift her hips a little and lick her lips in anticipation – when she was finding it difficult to focus or unwind. On nights when it was going to take more to get her in the mood than straightforward, simple intercourse. Jack did not mind her request. He did not mind helping her unwind in this way. He didn’t mind feeling her body gradually relax under his tongue, all the worry leaving her face as her fingers dug into his scalp and pulled his eager mouth closer. He didn’t mind those nights one bit. Particularly not when she sighed after coming and smiled her secret sex smile and told him she’d really, really needed what he’d given her.

It was on one such night, at the end of a long, difficult week, when night was nearing morning, when Jack had her on her back on his bed, his face between her thighs that her stubborn worry lines would not disappear. Her body refused to relinquish its stresses. She couldn’t come. Her hands drifted from clutching fistfuls of his hair to his shoulders. Pushing him away. Resisting. Unconsciously. Distancing. Subtly. Tensing. Incrementally. Rejecting. Silently.

After awhile, Jack lifted his head, studying her knit brow and tightly shut eyes. “Lemon...Lemon, you’re doing it again.”

Her eyes didn’t immediately open. “...Huh?”

He put his hands over hers, on his shoulders, felt the strain in her forearms as he slid his palms up the length of them. “You’re pushing again.”

“Oh...” Her eyes opened, they gazed down at him, glazed but troubled. “Sorry. Sorry, I...can’t turn my brain off.”

“Want me to stop?” Jack asked, though it was the last thing he wished to do. “Wanna do something else?”

“No. No...” she sighed, voice still distant as she riffled through his hair. “Please, keep going? I’ll...get there.”

Jack nodded, taking the hand in his hair and pressing it to his mouth, giving it a soft kiss. “Then I want you to do something for me,” he told her, voice low. He captured her other hand in a loose grip and raised them both over her head. She watched him move up over her and place both her hands on the wood of his headboard, her fingers automatically curling around two square spokes. “Hold on here,” he said. “And don’t let go.” 

Liz glanced up at their tangled hands then frowned at him. “You’re just bossy everywhere, aren’t you?”

He smirked, cocking his head. “Did you wish to take over?”

“No, I’m good,” she replied quickly. “Please...continue.”

“Good,” he nodded, mouth curling up in one corner. “Because if you move either one of these hands, do you know what I’m going to do?”

“Oh boy. Tie me down?” she guessed, arching a sceptical brow.

Jack paused. He nodded once. “Yes. Exactly.”

Her lips parted, before twitching into an uneasy smile. “And you are, of course, kidding now.”

He reached over the side of the bed to grab his discarded tie and laid it on the pillow beside her. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

Liz gulped visibly, eyeing the tie.

Jack was about to descend down the bed and start pleasuring her anew when he decided to milk the moment just a little more. He held himself over her, eyes running over her face. “Ever been tied up during sex, Lemon?”

“What d’you think?” she retorted before her tone softened and she changed her reply. “I...don’t think I’d like that.”

“You never know until you try.” He cast a glance at the tie, lying benignly on the white pillow, stretched out like a snake in the sun. He imagined weaving it around both her wrists and fastening them to the wood. His gaze tracked back to hers, he drawled in a playful voice, “Wanna try, Lemon?”

She sucked in a quick breath, shook her head against the pillow. “Uh-uh. No. I’ll keep my hands here. I won’t push. Promise.”

Jack leant down to kiss her, lingering over her lower lip. “The whole time, Lemon. The whole time my head is between your legs--”

Her nose screwed up. “Ew--”

“--the whole time my mouth is sliding and nipping, my tongue exploring and poking--”

She half groaned, half giggled, eyes closing.

“--even when my fingers enter you, even if more than one pushes inside you--”

An unexpected whimper escaped, making her bite down on her lip.

“--even when you start to clench on them, even when you start to scream and buck--”

Her eyes opened and locked with his. “I’m not going to scream, Jack. When have I ever screamed? I don’t-- that--” she hesitated, squirmed uncomfortably under him, “is not going to happen.”

Jack bowed his head, amused lips grazing hers, voice lowering to a deliberate rasp. “Even if I bring you to the edge over and over and over again but refuse you give your wet little clit--”

“Jeez!” She snorted in disgust, breasts jiggling.

“--one last, long, hard suck--”

“Oh my God...!” She tucked her face against her arm, her face red but smiling.

Jack nibbled her ear, sucked on the lobe. “--where are your hands going to be?”

She opened one eye, fixing him with a glare, face half hidden. “God, you are loving this, aren’t you?”

He grinned, giving her a quick kiss. “Don’t pretend it’s not turning you on too.”

She tried to lengthen the kiss, tried to wrap a leg around him. “Maybe. A little. Okay. So...how about we just skip the kinky stuff and get straight to the main event? Huh?”

He chuckled darkly and kissed her again, this time more lingeringly, more purposefully. “I don’t want these hands to move.” He kissed up one arm then down the other like Gomez Addams. “Not until I am back up here and ready to push inside you.” He pulled back to look at her. “Understood?”

Liz looked up at him a moment, eyes wide with both arousal and trepidation. Then she nodded.  
  
She watched him descend, watched him kiss her chest and tongue her nipples. She arched when he did, hands still in place, adjusting her hips on the sheets. Jack progressed slowly, letting his breath puff against her belly, letting his teeth graze her hipbone in a way that made her shiver. When he reached her mons, he paused. He looked up to see her still watching, her lower lip trapped between her teeth. He held her gaze as he kissed an uneven line along the top edge of the hair that shielded her apex, feeling her toes curl against his thighs. He ran a tongue along the seam where her torso met her leg and when she squirmed, he repeated the move on the outer side. Much slower. She squirmed again, letting out a sharp gasp. He wasn’t trying to get her to break the rules. He wasn’t trying to make her let go, make her shoot out a hand. But he was certainly not averse to seeing what might happen if she did, what it would take and where that might lead. There was little point to his mini experiment if he wasn’t going to push her right to the brink. And at the very least, unlike before, he now had her complete attention. Her entire body was rapt, ready and waiting for whatever his next move might be.

His next move was to spread her thighs, as far as they would go. Further than she’d ordinarily spread them for him. He looked at her a moment, drank her in with his eyes. Then he went to work on her inner thighs. Liz had lovely thighs, lovely womanly thighs. Not toned and firm but soft and fleshy, and they currently smelled of the arousal that had already leaked from her. They tasted of her, a taste he now knew well. After he’d licked them, suckled them, stroked them, kissed them both equally, Jack rocked back on his knees, taking one slim leg with him and resting the flat of her foot against his chest. He gazed down at her, her chest rising and falling deeply, her hands clenching and unclenching on the wooden spokes. He smiled and stroked her captive foot, then her calf, stroked up and back and up and back and then all the way up her inner leg to her centre where he dipped a finger in, swirled it around. And slid it inside.

Her eyes widened when a moment later he withdrew his slick finger. “If you--”

Jack lifted it to his lips.

“Augh! So gross,” she groaned, one hand clamping over her eyes.

Jack grinned, sucking on his finger, even though she couldn’t see him do it. He didn’t know how it made such a difference to her whether he sucked her juice out of her or off his own finger. What he did know was that that she’d moved a hand. He moved up over her, kissing her before she could protest. Her hand stayed over her eyes as he did and she groaned again when she tasted herself on his lips. Another intimacy she was yet to grow used to.

“You moved a hand,” he rumbled when he pulled back.

“You made me,” she accused. But she placed the hand back where he wanted it.

Jack hummed, eyes glowing with lust and mischief. “I’m going to make you do more than that. But I want your hands to stay here. No matter what.” He took the tie from beside her and draped it over her raised wrists as a reminder. “Okay?”

He descended before she could answer and reclaimed his position between her legs, hands cupping her ass cheeks and thumbs parting her lower lips. He licked her with a flat tongue, right up the middle of her. He licked up the seam of each leg in the same way. Then he began teasing her opening with the tip of his tongue while his nose nudged at her clit. Liz moaned in relief, in satisfaction, thighs already shaking with anticipation. Jack moaned in return, the vibration causing her moans to increase in pitch and volume. She began to move with him, her body picking up on the rhythm he set and kept to while his tongue picked up on the rhythm she needed. Sooner than he’d like, sooner than was normal, probably because of the heightened situation, he sensed she was close. Which was when Jack instantly backed off. His hands moved to her thighs. His lips shifted up to lightly kiss her stomach. She moaned her irritation, her feet tapping against him.

“I loathe you,” she scowled, eyes shut tight. “You. Suck.”

“I do indeed,” he returned calmly, hands smoothing over her hips. “But I thought that was what you wished for me to do. Was I mistaken?”

A foot kicked him unremorsefully. “Payback’s a bitch, you know. I’m gonna get you for this.”

“That sounds very interesting,” he mused, pressing a kiss to her irate body. “I’ll look forward to that happening.”

He watched patiently, waited for her breath to calm, her spine to slump, then without any warning, Jack slid down and resumed his assault, this time applying a finger to her tunnel while his tongue played over her clit. Her moans were of a different timbre, growing more frequent, more desperate with each sink and swipe. When her hips lifted a little to meet him, her thighs tensing and quivering again, he backed off a second time. He rolled to one side and lifted a hand to cup one breast. He ran a thumb over the nipple lightly, head tucked into the curve of her waist. He kissed her there.

“I love doing this,” he told her, feeling leisurely and blissful, despite his raging erection and the heat radiating off her.

“What?” she huffed, releasing a big breath, “Torturing me?” 

“Precisely.” He moved up to kiss her lips. And when they parted, he traced the inside of one arm with one finger. “Are they okay here?” he asked her softly. “Is it comfortable?”

Liz opened her eyes and looked at him, a strange delirium and simultaneous clarity in her gaze. She nodded, silent.

“Good,” he smiled at her, slowly ran a palm down her body. “Leave them there while I make you come.”

She shrugged up at the ceiling. “Oh. Okay then...”

Jack descended for the final time, kissing random places on her body as he did. Lying on his belly, he threw her legs over his shoulders, her heels resting on his back. And then he really went to town. He pulled out every trick he’d ever learnt in his impressive sexual history, he performed each little favourite manoeuvre he knew she responded to and he even tested a few new ideas he’d never dared try. Liz liked each one. She moaned and panted and arched and writhed. But her hands never moved. Not an inch. She didn’t push him away. She pushed her hips towards him instead, lifting herself towards his mouth as he gave her what she needed. He held her steady, kept licking, kept sucking as she lost control, convulsing with powerful spasms, coming like she had that first night he’d pleasured her. And when she was finally done, he moved up, moved over her. He grasped onto the rails either side of where her hands were and looked down into her flushed face.

“Open your eyes,” he whispered, his erection nudging at her entrance. “Open them, Liz.”

She did, gasping when he pushed inside her. One long, steady, slow push. Her neck elongated, her mouth forming the shape of his name but not quite expelling it. Once he was buried inside her, but only then, did her hands lift, weightless from their captivity to encircle him and clutch him closer.

_END._

For more of my "30 Rock" fanfic go [here](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/812100/Mindy35)


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